Split Decision
by Yaji's Girl
Summary: Story of the Nameless Namekian's rise to power.
1. Invitation

**This is the Nameless Namekian's story (referred to as the Nameless Creature or Nameless One where fit, thanks to a suggestion by Esplandian). It will cover his conferencing with the former Kami, his split, his battle with Garlic, and his ascension as Guardian of Earth. There's too much about this topic to cram it all into one one-shot, and if all goes right, it should be about five chapters in length. Sorry that this first one has so little dialogue - it was just how it worked out. I hope you enjoy my take on the story that was only briefly explained in the series/movies/manga/whatever.  
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The genie leaned forth against one of the Lookout's many decorative columns, keeping a paled palm pressed against its smooth glaze and hiding his face partially behind its stony exterior. He only allowed his small, round eyes to peer over towards the wide expanse of sun-beaten tile, empty save for the palm trees and flowers and wide, open sky that embraced the floating structure in its bluish grasp. And there were also the strangers that had appeared at roughly the same time but that couldn't have differed more in appearance.

Mr. Popo backed into the shadows of the gleaming palace once more, his mind reeling as images of the pair coursed through it. He had never seen strangers like them before. Of course, the genie hadn't seen much of the world, having been confined as servant to the Guardian of Earth since the beginning of time itself, though he had made his rare ventures through the lands below. But, again, he had never seen humans of these proportions, making him wonder if they were from this planet at all.

One of them had been tall - extremely tall. He had to have been at least sixteen feet tall, though he was rather lanky for his height. His gnarled hands had been clasped behind his back as this green creature with pointed ears peered down at the other visitor, an extremely short imp with his stout legs crossed beneath him. The two had been engaged in conversation, and though the green one in the blue gi had been turned away, Mr. Popo could see the discomfort of their topic from the shorter man's toothy grimace.

Normally, Mr. Popo would have openly greeted a guest and invited him to stay. After all, it had been some thousands of years since the Lookout's last visitor, but there was something suspicious about their arrivals. And there was the matter of the tall green one, which seemed to be emanating a power that far surpassed the genie's. This was a rarity in itself.

His grip tightened around the watering can in his left hand as he proceeded down the corridor, careful to keep in the shadows. He wasn't certain of what to do about this mystery, though he knew that Kami needed to know right away. Then he could choose from there just what to do with these visitors and decided whether they were wanted or not.

But as Mr. Popo approached the main atrium adjacent to Kami's room, he wondered whether it would be wise to inform his master of their arrival. His master had been in decaying health as of late, and his excursions around the grounds had become rarer and rarer. If these visitors were indeed unwanted, he didn't want to distress Kami any further. In such fragile health, the genie wasn't certain of whether the Guardian of Earth would be able to fend off intruders when Mr. Popo himself was fearful of them being too powerful to be handled physically.

There was no other choice, however. He had to tell Kami of their presence. It didn't seem as though they were terribly vicious, anyways, what with their chattering away just on the edge of the Lookout, probably not planning a palace siege. They didn't seem to be together, at any rate, or if they were, they certainly weren't close. Tacticians or not, if they weren't a pair, the genie might have stood a chance in taking them down one-on-one with his magic. And hopefully, Kami would be able to help him assuming he was feeling better than he had been these past few days.

The door creaked slightly with the light pressure Mr. Popo applied to it, and the only other sound the genie made came from the padded footsteps of his slippers. Knocking was futile when Kami had barely the voice to say 'enter', and so the servant was often forced to enter his master's chamber without invitation. All that greeted the genie's sight was a cloaked figure facing the wall opposite him and leaning against a wooden staff.

"Kami?" Mr. Popo dared call as he set his watering can just outside of the door and approached his master's back. When he only received a fatigued grunt in return, he decided to push all formalities aside and get right to the point. "We have two visitors outside, both with impressive strength." He failed to mention that one of them possessed power incomparable to that of even the ancient master's, afraid to distress Kami.

But to the genie's surprise, Kami showed no sign of shock. "They have been out there for some time," he informed Mr. Popo, who was taken aback by his knowledge. The deity's voice was strained, barely able to escape his throat. He automatically moved a twisted hand over the skin hidden within the folds of his brown cloak, assuaging the sore voice box, as he turned towards his servant.

"How did you know they were out there?" he asked in pure awe, his amazement with the Guardian of Earth's power never waning in the millenia he had worked with him. But, though there was a low chuckle in response, Mr. Popo had no idea of whether a smile or frown was gracing his master's shaded features.

"I invited them, Mr. Popo," he explained drily. He raised a withered hand up to where his mouth must have been in that cloak to smother a cough before placing it atop his other hand once more. "It shouldn't surprise you that they are here. It is no secret that my health is poor at the moment."

This comment was met with silence; Mr. Popo was uncertain of how to respond to such a critical reflection. It was true that the Guardian of Earth was no longer the man he had once been, as all guardian's health fled them at some time in their reign, though Mr. Popo had become so accustomed to this particular one that he had not imagined life without him. Their relationship was not a particularly close one with Mr. Popo's philosophy that it was never safe to become terribly friendly with one of these beings, but nearly three thousand years was a long time, even for a Guardian of Earth. There was bound to be some type of respect to have bloomed during such a time, and so this topic stung him.

Additionally, with the genie being an immortal being, the subject of death had never been particularly comfortable to him. He had witnessed guardians come and go, but three thousand years was certainly a long time - most definitely long enough for this genie to forget death itself.

"When I go, which I feel will be very soon, I will need somebody to take over. It will be much safer if I choose my predecessor rather than allow you to, seeing as I comprehend all of the trials in undergoing such a task of running the Earth that any subservient mind could not." This insult to Mr. Popo's intellect was quickly dismissed, as the genie was adjusted to having his position as a mere slave mocked. "And so I have offered a job, and these two young creatures have responded to the offer. They are both willing to take it up, though just from feeling their energies, I'd imagine that they both are sub par."

The guardian became winded quickly, forced to pause as he shook his hooded head. He paced towards a blank wall with only the sound of his walking cane to resonate through the spacious room, murmuring, "I will have to see them one-on-one to determine just whether my hunch is correct. The two have great power, and yet their hearts are too tainted to guide them."

He lifted his head to face Mr. Popo once again, his red eyes shining from the shadows of his visage. His glare was sharp, and after only a brief break in speech, he managed to project his scratchy voice to demand, "Bring the shorter of the pair, Mr. Garlic, to the West Wing. You are invited to attend if you'd please, though spectating will be the limit of your interference.

The bite in his tone brought Mr. Popo to eagerly bow and reply, "Of course. Thank you, Kami." Then, with a speed unmatched by any physical being on Earth, the genie disappeared from the room.

* * *

><p>Garlic's crooked mouth was transfixed with a toothless grimace as he observed the creature sauntering across the landing, each stride taken filled with power and purpose. This creature was a creature indeed, what with being nearly five times the size of the short imp and being the color of parched grass. It was a sickening green that, when reflecting the sun's rays at the perfect angle, managed to strike Garlic's eyes with its plastic sheen. Whoever this creature was, he certainly was not from Earth.<p>

Of course, Garlic could say the same about himself.

So what was it that brought two extraterrestrials by human standards to this very same planet, in search of the very same job? Garlic's purpose was very clear, being that he was looking for both wealth and power. His avarice was only fueled by his ambition, though he had gone to great lengths to disguise his motives with carefully scripted speeches on just how he would bring world peace. But it seemed as though his opponent had gone to equal lengths to muddy up his goal, not allowing one prominent emotion to stand out for any amount of time on his hardened face.

The two had exchanged a few words, Garlic attempting to know this creature better to recognize his faults, though nothing was revealed. Garlic hadn't even been able to pick up a name, the creature insisting that such formalities were unnecessary. As far as the delusional creature knew, he would be called Kami shortly. But the poor, stupid creature had no idea of just who he was up against; Garlic had been just as hesitant in handing out information.

He was Garlic, Lord of Makyans and less formally nicknamed the King of Demons. Unfortunately, however faithful his demons may have been, there simply were not enough to fuel him. He needed a larger supply of fresh souls to nurture with his mist, in the manner a mother trains her child, and to build his army. With more supporters backing him, he would be able to surpass those others that labeled themselves as Demon Kings, and Earth seemed to be the perfect location to begin with its weak and malleable inhabitants.

He had a goal in the end of all of this madness, though he couldn't find a single hint as to exactly why this Nameless Creature would want to assume a position of so much responsibility. There was neither maliciousness nor goodwill lurking on his facial features, keeping himself composed where the imp couldn't. He simply went on pacing back and forth, obviously buried in thought and leaving Garlic to wonder exactly what was coursing through his mind.

The short imp subconsciously tightened his grip on the twiggy legs crossed beneath him, holding on to the blue flesh that stuck out sorely from beneath his black cloak. His brain wandered with curiosity, ambling down different paths of possibilities that could explain the Nameless Creature's presence. He regarded every exterior facet of the monster, from the pink patches of veins that lined his arms to the sheer height of him, unable to pin just whether he had pure motives or not. But that was nearly impossible, as Garlic believed the notion of having pure motives was unrealistic in a world of so much temptation.

Garlic cocked his disproportionately large head in curiosity and feigned a smile. He pushed himself off of the white tile and, with his curiosity getting the best of him, decided to approach the creature once more. Perhaps this creature had more malicious motives than he had let on, and the two could be allies, however unlikely. Even if this Nameless Creature possessed the intent to take over this world, it was most likely that his plans wouldn't coincide with those of Garlic's. But it never hurt to gather a bit more information about your opponent.

The Nameless Creature automatically spun around as soon as Garlic shifted his weight to his feet, having heard the tiny imp's grunting. He leered down at the Makyan sitting only a few yards away, and the suspicion in the creature's eyes was similarly reflected in Garlic's, though with more warmth. Whereas the green man wasn't afraid to openly show his hostility, the imp disguised it with a smug grin, a jagged incisor pulled over his bottom lip to glint in the sun's light.

"I don't believe I recall where you said you come from," Garlic said in an attempt to get the Nameless Creature to confide in him. He patted down the skirts of his cloak as he did so, but when he looked up towards that stoic face, he was met with immense distrust.

The taller of the pair only snarled in disbelief, able to see all of the evil in the imp's intentions through the evil that lurked in his own heart. Their so-called 'conversation' earlier had been uncomfortable with the imp attempting to pry into every detail of his life, forcing the Nameless Creature to recall many of the evils of his life he had aimed to forget before his interview with Kami. And so, after allowing his eyes to fall upon the pitiful thing that barely stood up to his shin, he turned away to begin his pacing once more.

The Makyan's fake smile receded, but before he could make another attempt at conversation, he heard a clear voice call, "Garlic? Garlic?" He tore his gaze away from the Nameless Creature's retreating back to locate the source calling his name, and his eyes fell upon a stout, black man in a white turban, red vest, baggy pants, and golden slippers that released a metallic glow.

Before he could inquire just why this odd man was calling his name, the servant explained, "Kami would like to speak with you in the West Wing."

A more genuine smile formed on Garlic's impish features as he exclaimed, "Of course!" He picked up the trails of his cloak and scurried towards the genie, satisfied with having been called in over the likes of the Nameless Creature. He wrinkled his tiny nose conceitedly as he threw a look over his shoulder to see the Nameless Creature's first undisguised emotion of the day, and that being open shock. His eyes were wide as they trailed over the Makyan and genie, and Garlic couldn't help but release a sinister snicker.

He had been chosen first to counsel with Kami. Perhaps this was a sign.


	2. Contemplation

**Whoops! Sorry for making this another very verbose passage, but I promise that next chapter will have some more dialogue, as it will go into the conference. I had to clear up some things about the Nameless Namekian's past, which was never fleshed out. I hadn't been certain about adding the Black Star Dragon Balls in there considering how much I dislike GT, but if you want it, you've got it. Trust me, they'll be in here eventually. I just hope you enjoy!**

**Oh, and one more thing. The reason why Garlic is so short is that I believe he has two forms, just like his son. But do not fear - he'll reach his full potential soon enough.  
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The Nameless Creature tossed his head over his shoulder for another look at the door though which Garlic and the servant had disappeared. They pair had been gone for five minutes now, and though he could normally exercise patience while waiting, he found it difficult to do so in this instance. His future rested on the shoulders of Kami, who he knew must have been waiting in the West Wing of the brilliant palace.

Pacing back and forth was doing nothing to ease his qualms, and so after that one lasting glance, his large figure collapsed into a meditative position. He was turned away from the palace to face only the open, blue sky, something he greeted with a gruff snort as he shut his eyes. The air was crisp at this altitude and offered a pleasant breeze that differed greatly from where he fared from. Yunzabit Heights, as the humans deemed the place, lacked the cleansing feel of the Lookout. Instead, it was marred with the corrosive winds born from the eastern seaboard.

The weight of his worries lightened considerably as he amused himself with memories from only a few years prior, from long before his corruption. Before he had ever encountered civilization of any kind, he recalled the period in which his days had been filled with discovery and play. The sea's salty taste used to dance upon his tongue as he climbed through those grassy highlands, never giving a thought to the possibility of a world beyond those hills.

To him, his world had been composed of only simple things: the pond he drank from resting at the base of the highest mountain; the caves in which he camped whenever a frightful tempest blew threw the area; and a mysterious, round vessel which opened at the command of a peculiar language.

He wasn't certain of how or where he had learned to speak this language, one which no civilization on Earth seemed to even know of, but from as far back as he could remember he had possessed this uncanny ability. He simply remembered gazing up at the silver structure that oddly resembled a contraption called a spacecraft from human folklore, something he would often do whenever boredom or loneliness set in. Often, he would do this at night when those orbs drifting in the darkness called stars would alight his imagination.

He would lean back on the silky grass that covered the region as words would course through his mind. He supposed now that he had created this odd language as a child, though it was the one he had used before learning the Common Language used throughout Earth. Random words would be created on the spot when seen as fit, and from time-to-time, whenever he came up with something particularly imaginative, he would whisper the word softly to himself.

On one particular night, he remembered staring up at the sky and wondering exactly what laid out in that open expanse of sky. A particularly poignant word came out to describe the mystery that awaited out there, the other worlds, and he had said it rather quietly to the wind: Piccolo. Surprisingly, the hatch had immediately opened to the large machine and lowered a platform, inviting him within its round belly.

To his great astonishment, the contraption understood other commands, too. When he told it to go, or to stay, or to conjure an odd thing he would later learn to be a toilet, it would do so. And that was where he had immediately suspected that perhaps he wasn't alone. If this machine could listen to his words and understand them, there may have been others out there that could also understand him.

This was when, in his naivity, he had set out on an expedition to find other living creatures. He finally decided to set out beyond the hills of his haven and to venture into the unknown abyss of corruption. The journey had started off as interesting and satisfying to his burning desire to learn, though it had quickly plunged into the depths of evil.

His first encounter with humans had come from interactions with small children when he had only been a few months old. They were all intrigued by his green skin and antennae, and he by their neutral complexions and hair. He never came out to play whenever adults were around, as they frightened him by their immense height, though he did enjoy games whenever it was just these children. They were similar enough in heart, even if their differences varied; all they sought was a bit of fun, and he managed to snag bits of knowledge from them.

That, however, came to a quick end. One of the mothers had caught sight of him, and unlike the welcoming children, the parents scorned and banished him with their prejudice of what was normal. And that was when the Nameless One had learned that there were standards based upon simply appearance, and it was the first time he had felt so alone since the beginning of his life when he had once spent his nights simply peering at the sky. But unlike those nights of seclusion in which he stretched his mind and spoke words of that mysterious made-up language to himself, he felt disgusting now. Instead of simply being lonely, he was unwanted.

He didn't give up on mankind right away. It still possessed the chance to redeem itself in the alien's eyes, or at least until this instance was repeated. One-by-one, he was rejected from villages, sometimes even being hunt down to kill. And with each town he passed, the self-loathing he felt for his own differences became a loathing of others for their inability to accept him for who he was.

The first time he had burnt down a village, it had been an accident. He had simply been making a show of himself by displaying bursts of energy that he could shoot out of his fingertips, impressing even the tall twelve-year-olds. But then a father had come around a corner, only to see his witchcraft and odd physical appearance and to immediately judge him by that. So he gathered the other men of the village and ran him out with pitchforks and torches of flame. The Nameless One had only stood there and, with anger flaring within his being, he shot off one particularly deadly shot of energy.

The whole town had flared up immediately into a conflagration of unprecedented proportions, and the Nameless One had quickly fled. From a nearby hill, he had been able to witness the friends and enemies he had created burn up into nothingness, each roof lit up with the glow of heat. And he stared, transfixed by the scene, until only smouldering ashes had been left behind.

It had truly been remarkable.

He had been so astounded by this scene that he carried on to other villages and burned them up in much the same manner. A second city, a third city, and so on followed. Although there was no smile on his face as he watched the smoke inhale those thatch-roofed huts, a lingering awe resonated through his soul. They had pushed him so far so as to finally force his simmering anger out of its metaphorical pot to spew revenge at them. And for the first time in his life, he finally felt a sense of fulfillment. He had done something to finally change people so that they wouldn't harass him or others for their being different any longer. They were dead.

His childhood had become corrupt very early on, but after a few years of this cycle and some growing up, the amusement had ceased and left him bored. It was no longer fun to abuse his unmatched strength; he needed a challenge. And so he returned to Yunzabit Heights to train his mental prowess through the art of meditation, one of the many useful things he had picked up from the very humans he terrorized.

This psychological training was far more demanding than any punches or kicks he had thrown. It absorbed the majority of his day to sit on the grassy cliffs with gusts of wind constantly beating his brow, forcing him to eventually retreat to a dark cavern when his persistence broke. But even these interferences with his training were not enough to stop him completely. Unlike the humans he had encountered, he was not held back by material constraints as long as there was a source of fresh water nearby.

Eventually, after months of rigorous exercise, he found himself able to compartmentalize his thoughts. If he felt pain or anger or sorrow, he would simply shut off that part of his mind. Even joy was an emotion that he often disregarded in an attempt to view the world as it was, and not as his own heart perceived it to be. He didn't want to go into situations as prejudiced as those humans had been, and so though his brain had separated both the evils and goods of his being, he rarely tapped either resource.

What was a conscience for a green misfit like himself, anyways?

He had reached full height by the time he predicted himself to be about six years of age, which proved itself to be another factor that sorted him out as a freak and yet another reason for him to stay in Yunzabit Heights. As tempted as he was to go out and destroy those that regarded him as a monster for all of the physical aspects that distinguished him from that of humans, he decided that he would be above such an act. He was beyond his days of tyranny, or so he thought; unfortunately, his evils weren't over just as of yet.

His separation from mankind had brought another bout of loneliness to hang over him, unable to turn off such an emotion as he had with so many others. He would sit in the round vessel from which he assumed he had come to Earth in - as there was no other explanation for his oddness save for being an alien - and ponder over just how he could make a new friend. He was too tall for children anymore, who would most definitely want no part of him, and he was too different for adults. At this time, he considered even taking in one of those four-legged creatures deemed to be 'loyal companions', though even they barked and growled in his presence.

And so he decided to perform an ancient human technique called the 'Multi-Form', something he had picked up from one of the monks he had once met before burning down his monastery. It had been purely incredible to the Nameless One, who had never seen anybody split into two or three bodies. Perhaps this was how he would ease his boredom - he would simply have to split up into another one of himself.

However, as much as he tried creating another body that took on his appearance, he couldn't find the ability to. And this greatly disturbed him. Here he was, his strength having been unmatched all of his life, but unable to perform a pitiful human's trick that he had seen a monk do. It sickened him.

So after months of trying to seperate the parts of good and bad equally between bodies, he gave up. Instead, her pursued another project, which would prove to be even more wicked than burning down cities or towns. It had come from an art that was distinctly inhuman and that had been born of his desire to 'wish' for another person to train with and accompany him.

But that had been so wicked, he refused to even think about it.

Instead, he waited with his legs crossed, hovering just above the white tile with his mind focused on the good of his being, not the bad.

* * *

><p>Garlic was breathless as he left the West Wing, stumbling to keep up with the genie. The conference had gone well, but meeting Kami himself had done all but knock the life out of him. It had been an invigorating experience to feel that much raw power course through a single being. And though Garlic was certain that he was so much stronger than Kami, it was the fact that all of that energy was so focused that caught the imp off-guard.<p>

He panted as soon as he walked through the door that the servant was holding for him, his skirts in hand as he proceeded down the steps and back on to the Lookout's familiar landing. He caught sight of the Nameless Creature, who was locked in a meditative position, and yelled, "Hey, you!" It snapped the monster out of his trance and got him to turn his head around in disbelief. Pleased that he had thoroughly captured his opponent's attention, Garlic continued smugly, "You'll want to go through that door and meet up with Kami! He's waiting for you!"

The Nameless Creature glowered at him as he landed on his feet, not providing a single word of thanks. Instead, he marched towards Mr. Popo, who looked utterly worn out. It had been a long time since the genie had gone through these interviews, and they even got him on edge. He couldn't believe how well that Garlic fellow was doing, considering how badly his conference with Kami had gone.

But the Makyan was oblivious to the fact that Kami had so heavily disapproved of him, and with a smirk, he taunted the Nameless Creature, "I don't know if Kami will even really want to see you! I mean, he liked me so much that he might've already signed me up for the job! I really don't think that talking to him would change his mind!"

He was met, however, with the slam of the chocolate-colored door, leaving him alone on the Lookout's landing. He cocked his over-sized head and scowled, having never appreciated being ignored. But that was no matter, because as soon as he was made Kami of Earth, nobody would be able to ignore him. And he felt fully confident that he would get the job after that brief interview, however long it may have felt.

What he didn't realize was that he didn't understand the way that Kami reacted in the same way that Mr. Popo did, who had been by his side for thousands of years. He didn't realize that each nod of the head or cough of the throat was simply to get Garlic to move on during one of his tangents. He didn't even notice how uncomfortable the Guardian of Earth was, twitching his rheumatic hands over the head of his staff.

If anything, it should have been Garlic who had been uncomfortable, with those red eyes peering at him from the dark depths of his cloak hood. But Garlic hadn't even noticed that glare he received, having been so caught up in his own words.

And those words, he was incorrectly certain, had won over Kami.


	3. Exhumation

**Sorry for not getting this one out right away - it was a bit of a difficult chapter for me to write. I want to thank all of you who read and review this story, and I hope you enjoy this section. It's a bit of an experiment on my own part, being slightly different than I've written before, but I once more hope that you enjoy this.**

The muffled patter of footsteps seemed amplified in the quiet of the West Wing. The only other sound to be heard was the faint ticking of a distant clock, something that the Nameless One could easily pick up on with his cavernous ears. His sight, however, didn't stray as his hearing did. He kept his eyes straight ahead of him, focused not on the genie or the arched windows flooding the wide corridor with light, but rather on a far-off door at the end of this hallway.

His mind was like his ears, unable to concentrate on the matter that was at hand. Instead of considering exactly what he would say when he met Kami, he allowed himself to wonder just who this genie before him was. His trained gaze never faltered to glance at the stout figure, though he couldn't help but think that if this was the immortal servant that was claimed to be as powerful as Kami himself, Kami would not compare physically to himself. Even that pathetic Garlic fellow's power level was of more concern than the genie's.

He was forced to ponder over whether or not, when dealing with such a creature, there would be hidden disadvantages. Clearly, as a genie, he would know some form of magic. But what his interviewers might not have known about the Nameless One was that he possessed some magical abilities of his own. In fact, he still had yet to meet anybody who could outdo him in the world of energy control and other such things. Even the monks with all of their meditation had not compared in the slightest.

If he had possessed the ability to read minds, he could have seen that Mr. Popo was similarly curious as to this Nameless Creature's abilities. The genie had never met somebody who so outmatched his own strength, and it made him wonder where it came from. He had yet to meet somebody so tall and so green, and the antennae atop his shiny head only renewed fading interest. Each time the servant glanced behind his shoulder to assure that he was still being followed, what with the Nameless One being so light on his feet, he noticed the glazed vacancy in the stranger's eyes, as though concentrating on something in a different plane altogether.

The two eventually reached the end of the corridor with Mr. Popo stopping abruptly. He tilted his head upward to look the visitor directly in the face, and with his large lips settled into a dignified frown, announced, "Kami will be in the next room." It had been a long time since the genie had been so unnerved, though the Nameless Creature didn't do so much as give him a blink of recognition. He simply continued staring at the door. And so after a moment's wait to ensure that the guest had understood that much, he continued, "You must show all respect to him. He will not tolerate anybody who will waste his time."

This time, he received the slightest bob of the head and a reply. "Of course," the Nameless One assured him, though his voice was void of emotion. He would not be distracted with courtesy.

Mr. Popo pulled the door open by its brassy handle, immediately presenting an entrance to the next room. Even with the Nameless One's astounding height, he wasn't forced to bend over terribly, what with these doors being tall with the extravagance this palace presented. All he was forced to do was bend his shoulders forth, just as he had with the previous door.

The moment he stepped into the enclave, the Nameless One took into consideration each detail without even so much as turning his head. It was a round room with ornate carvings created in high relief across its white walls. There were a line of circular stained glass windows to his right that shed rings of colorful light into the midst of the floor, which brought the Nameless One's eyes upon a dark figure on the side of the room opposite him.

Any surprise that may have flickered on the Nameless Creature's face had faded by the time the cloaked man stated, his voice scratchy, "You have come." It wasn't a question, though it still held a fleeting uncertainty to it. The Nameless One washed himself of emotion as he his body stiffened, regarding the approaching man with disguised suspicion. Something didn't seem right about this man, though out of the corner of his eye, he noticed that Mr. Popo didn't seem the least perturbed about his presence. The genie remained a mere spectator in the conference, unflinching in the sight of such a spectral appearance.

There was nothing outwardly ghastly about the man's appearance, though the imprecision with which he moved, shifting his weight upon the cane he had clutched in a pale, withered hand, only heightened the Nameless Creature's uncertainty. This wasn't exactly what he had expected of Kami, Guardian of Earth. Whereas the man in his several musings had been a divine portrait draped in pearled cloths as dazzlingly bright as the sun itself, he had encountered a decrepit gargoyle shrouded in darkness and only a few feet higher than his genie servant. This was not the august spectacle he had expected to find, and at that moment, he couldn't help but feel a mixture of disappointment and comfort.

Clearly, there was no competition. If he hadn't been so shocked to find his foresight so incorrect, he would have laughed or at least smiled smugly. But he was only a breathing statue as Kami circled around him, his brown robes trailing behind.

"You are... different," he heard that discordant voice murmur, knowing its owner was scrutinizing each of his own magnificent details. The Nameless Creature was not afraid of his strengths, and he never went out of his way to hide them. He was tall, powerful, and even green, all things that he had taught those humans to never scorn. And even in this moment, after claiming to have regretted each vile act he had committed upon those villages, he couldn't help but feel pleasure in having put them in their place.

Other dark thoughts flourished in his mind as he closed his eyes, forgetting this important interview as a cloud of euphoric forgetfulness came upon him. There were those towns he had destroyed, though there was more to his dark past that he hadn't been willing to think on. But now, for some reason, he felt a pressing obligation to review the memories.

_There was Yunzabit Heights again, pressing against the back of his mind. He could feel the wind beat against his skull and smell the salt's heavy presence in the air. Ominous clouds brewed overhead with claps of thunder and flashes of lightning filling the area. And once again, the Nameless Creature was kneeling before a rucksack he had snatched from a decimated village. His stomach lurched on this particular day, and he hacked and coughed and, with the rucksack's opening to his mouth, only heaved spit. Something was being created._

_The Nameless Namekian glanced towards the sky, sweat condensing on his plastic skin. He gagged on something coming up in his throat, expanding his airway so as to cough the foreign object up. This was his torture for having sold himself in an attempt to gain a wish, to have somebody just like him so as to not be the only 'different' one in this cruel world. And his efforts paid off, as before him lay a glinting, orange sphere with a single black star glazed on to its surface._

_There wasn't any time to display the slightest ounce of enthusiasm for his creation, as the painful process of creating these round objects wasn't over. Again and again, another one was hacked out of his throat and coated in a warm mucus. It wasn't until there were finally seven, each one with an additional star, that he finally collapsed face-first, not even bothering to place them into the rucksack as he had planned._

_The Dragon Balls were spread out around his unconscious figure, and the few that budged with a torrential downpour of rain didn't move far. For the most part, they stayed stationary and glowed dangerously with the only light for miles._

_It wasn't until hours later that the Nameless One finally awoke and pushed himself from the grassy earth, stumbling as he regained his footing. He blinked his eyes to regain sobriety, only to rear back in surprise with the warm glow they emitted in the dark of night. The storm was over, but his shoes still squelched in the soggy dirt with each step back he took. A pound resounded through his heart as he stared at these objects, and without the blind thirst for a companion itching in his throat at the moment, he realized just what he had done._  
><em>He had, quite possibly, created the most evil objects to ever be spit out upon the Earth's surface, holy in comparison to this defiliation of a sin from its demon.<em>

_He should have destroyed them. He could have destroyed them. But he wouldn't. There was not enough strength in the world that would have rattled his heart to destroy these creations of his, as an underlying greed suddenly appeared on his face. He could have any wish he wanted, including somebody who would accept him as he was, and yet the good side of his mind forced such a desire aside. It would be too risky._

_And thus, he buried them, right there and then. He bent over the mud and allowed his the knees of his gi to dirty with his work, ignoring the grime to scoop up each chunk of sludge in his sizeable hands. He tossed the mud over his shoulder and attempted to bury these magical artifacts away in much the same way as he had tried burying his many evils, only to have them emerge once more. But these, he was certain, would never emerge from their grave. He would try with everything in his power to stop anybody from plundering this site, to hide this disgusting deed of evil._

_Yet he could not succeed in hiding his vices by covering them with his virtues..._

_It never worked... And a cold sensation burned his arm as he continued throwing dirt upon the Dragon Balls, muddying up their gleam... And the cold sensation became more poignant with each passing second, burning through his flesh and striking the bone..._

"Stop."

_He continued digging and digging, not daring as much as a glance towards those objects of loathing..._

"Please... stop." His voice was begging.

_There was so much dirt under his long fingernails he would never manage to wash away..._

"No!" the Nameless Creature roared with agony, and he blinked several times, finding himself to be now kneeling in the West Wing of the Lookout. His breathing had intensified as he had been immersed in his shadowed memories, and his heart pounded against its ribcage as he held his fingers up to his eyes, immediately inspecting them for the revealing dirt. But they were as immaculate as they had been when he had come, as clean as they had ever been in his attempt to look impressive.

Now, however, he looked anything but impressive.

A look of despair crossed his face as he turned to Kami, who had promptly removed his staff from the place where the burning sensation had struck him. He subconsciously placed a hand there and, with his expression twisting so that it became dangerous, he growled, "What did you do!" There was no question in it, stopping just short of relentless fury. There was a spark of outrage in his narrowed pupils as he scrutinized the gargoyle, who had withdrawn himself from the Nameless Creature.

"I'm surprised," was all that came from the hood of the Guardian of Earth, and for the first time, the Nameless Creature noticed the red gleam of eyes lurking within the shadowy veil. "I have never seen anybody break free of my Memory Bond."

"M-memory bond?" spluttered the Nameless Creature, whose anger had quickly faded into confusion, what with not having the energy to put up a real fight. He could only stare as though in a trance at Kami, his large ears only accepting the grating voice. Had he paid more attention to his surroundings, he would have noticed that even Mr. Popo was watching in awe, his eyes comically large and round.

"It's something I use in case I must see past barriers mortals instinctively create. I press my staff to them, and the darkest corners of their mind are revealed to me. And when I am through, the subject doesn't remember a single thing, simply having believed themselves to have caught themselves while staring off into space. It is useful in times like this, or at least when it works," he explained in a warmer voice that he hadn't used in thousands of years, not even for the cordial Mr. Popo. It had been a long time since he had seen somebody with this much potential, as wasted as it may have been.

The Nameless One couldn't help but snarl, now knowing just why Garlic had believed himself to have done so well in his presentation. To allow the imp to believe that he was in the midst of an interview, he had allowed him to speak some, though the majority of his judging had come from the memories themselves. But if memories were the deciding factor in this case, and assuming Kami had seen the same memories he had just relived, there would be little chance of him walking away from this matter as Guardian of Earth.

Before he could find the breath to ask whether or not he was still eligible for the position, Kami answered his question. "It's evident that you are not suitable for this job. My greatest condolences, but I will ask Mr. Popo to escort you out now." And the nonchalance in his tone, the callousness, nearly drove the Nameless One over the edge. He was being dismissed for a mistake of his past, one that he hadn't accounted would be judged if he behaved accordingly. So he leapt to his feet and prepared to strangle the Guardian of Earth by his throat, though before he could lunge forth, he felt an invisible force tugging at him.

Kami continued walking towards the wall, and as soon as he rested his shriveled fingers upon its surface, he turned to Mr. Popo and ignored the creature frozen in mid-air. The genie had his fingers extended before him, having cast this spell upon the Nameless Creature, and the Guardian of Earth nodded slightly for him to drop the green monster. And so by folding his fingers back into chubby fists, the Nameless Creature dropped from the air and thudded gracelessly on the ground.

"Now go," Kami said, those lurking red eyes dancing mischievously within the shadows of his hood. "Go before you anger me."

The Nameless Creature stared incredulously at him, gritting his teeth indignantly as he did so. But after a moment's consideration, he huffed and spun around, accompanied out the door by a rather sheepish Mr. Popo.


End file.
